The Art of Being a Con
by SwirlyTwirly
Summary: Shaun McKnight, is a 17 year old con arist who caught the FBI's attention. Peter and Neal are assigned to find out who is and catch him, fast. But when they do catch him, he strikes a deal with Hughes. Now Peter has another criminal in his charge. He isn't the only con artist around. And she's determined to get the young con and anyone in the way.
1. The Con Boy

**Updated AN 2012: Swirlytwirly here, editing this story from the beginning. It shouldn't take too long, since there are only four chapters, but I'm back! Once I finish correcting the chapters, I will start updating again. I promise! After every chapter is updated, there will be an updated Author's Note with it. **

**AN: Well, here's chapter one! This is my first White Collar fic. The idea just came to me yesterday when I was watching it. Please R&R.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own White Collar and never will. :) I only own the two characters I made up; Shaun and Alicia and any more I make up along the way.**

* * *

"Another stolen painting," Peter said. "Replaced by a forgery. The security guard claims not to have heard a thing, or noticed anything unusual. None of the surveillance tapes had any useful footage. Most likely, someone tampered with the tapes."

Peter Burke shoved the newest case file to the side of his desk and leaned back in his chair, releasing out a sigh. Unconsciously, he ran his head through his thinning hair. He had seen three other similar case files throughout the past week, and still hadn't the slightest idea about who the culprit was. It was frustrating him to no extreme, especially since this crime seemed so juvenile. He had dealt with so many more complex cases, but this case, this _simple _case, had them stumped.

"People are noticing that forgery too quickly," Diana said. "It's almost as if our guy _wants _ us to find the forgeries. He's gloating."

"Or he's getting sloppy," Neal said. He had already expressed his theories to Peter, that whoever the culprit was, he or she has done this for a long time. Neal was sure that there were plenty of other forgeries that hadn't been caught yet, and that now the criminal was starting to slip up. Their hubris was beginning to get in the way.

"But the fake is only needed until he sells the painting. Which means he's selling them fast then. He's probably lining up clients before he actually steals the painting. Then he could sell the painting almost immediately after he stole it. By the time anyone notices, the painting is long gone. The forgery doesn't have to work for a while, it just has to work for a day or so," Peter said with a scowl. "Diana? Has anyone come forward? A witness? Any one?"

Diana shook her head. "As of now, no. Peter, I don't think there are any witnesses. The security guards can't count. None of them ever noticed that someone even snuck into the building."

"Maybe we can figure out where he's going next," Jones said. "Obviously he's hitting museums and galleries at night. There can possibly be a pattern to it all. Our best option is to catch him in the act."

"I doubt he's actually getting _that _sloppy," Neal said dryly. "But we can try. That is, if we pinpoint where he is going to strike next. Jones, can you bring me a map of the area where the crimes has occurred? I think I can narrow it down."

Jones nodded and hurried off.

"We'll have to have people undercover, scouting the area. obviously we can't have people guarding the exits. That'll scare him off. Some of us can pose as guards though. And others as bystanders," Diana suggested as Jones returned with a map. He handed it to Neal.

Neal took the map and laid it out on a table. He grabbed a pen and circled four spots on the map, each museum that had been hit already. Then, he grabbed a red sharpie and began circling any other museum or gallery that was in the area; anything that could be considered a target. There were five possibilities withing the area.

"Well, it's a start," Peter said, but he still didn't look to pleased. There was no way to know which one would be targeted by the con artist next, or when. And the bureau didn't have enough man power to station people at all five locations. They had to condense it a specific spot. "Diana and Jones, look through the case files and see if you can come up with anything new. Neal, come with me," Peter directed as he slipped on his coat.

Neal placed his fedora on top his head and asked, "where to?"

"I figured that you can examine the forgeries," Peter said as the two walked out of the office.

"You think the guy left a signature on the paintings?"

"If there is, I know you can catch it," Peter said. "And a signature could be in the database."

"Which leads to a lead," Neal concluded.

"Exactly."

* * *

Shaun McKnight grinned to himself as he entered his apartment. He had just made his fourth sale of the week, and was working towards a fifth. He had two clients on hand, both of whom were battling each other in a bidding war to get the desired painting. Which was just fine with him, as long as he got paid in the end.

He was going for the fifth steal tonight, and the thought of it made his grin spread more. Each time his artifice worked, a tidal wave of pride crashed down on him. Shaun had been doing this con for almost a year, traveling from big city to big city. So far, during the month he'd been there, New York was the most lucrative of them all. And it was the most interesting city. He met fascinating people, went to fascinating places. The city was a quick adjustment for him, perhaps because he grew up in New York State. It was familiar.

But New York had one fatal flaw: it was competitive. The city drew in too many cons like him. And some of these people came territorial, like Alicia. His gaze trailed toward a note on his glass coffee table as he thought of Alicia, his newfound adversary. From what he heard, she was a few years older than him, and always worked in the city, pulling off heists similar to his own. She left the note for him as a form of a threat, but her efforts at scaring him away were futile. apparently, she disliked that Shaun was playing his hand at _her _game in _her city_. Still, she was no major threat to him, more like a nuisance.

Shaun picked up the note once more. It read:

_You better_ stop, child._ I've been at this longer. Revenge is cruel, especially my revenge. Heed this warning, get out of my city, my area. - Alicia_

The teenager scoffed every time he read the note. Who was she to call him a _child_? He was young, but certainly no child. He found the note ironic, because whoever this Alicia was, she was behaving like a child. Shaun chuckled at the irony as walked into his bedroom. He let himself drop on to his bed, and fell asleep a few minutes later. He was going to need rest to prepare for the plans he had for the night.

* * *

"Peter!" Diana called walking toward his office, where the door was left open.

Peter analyzed each sentence that he read. A stack papers were cast aside to the other side of his desk, since he had read them all already. Twice. And still, he found nothing new. Neal was sitting lazily on the couch reading as well. Looking at the forgeries had not been helpful at all. There were no signatures or clues that could have hinted at who the criminal was. Neal scrutinized the forgeries for hours, under Peter's watchful eye, and came up with nothing. It was frustrating and tiresome. The two returned Peter's office defeated and began combing through the case files once more.

When he heard her voice, Peter looked up to see Diana standing in the doorway. She was smiling triumphantly, an expression that gave Peter hope that they finally found the lead they were looking for. "Yeah? What happened?"

"A girl came here to see you. Said her name was Heidi Villetta." Diana was grinning furiously. "Looks like we have that witness you hoped for. She's waiting downstairs."

Peter and Neal exchanged glances before shooting up from their seats and walking out of the room. Diana followed them in suit as Peter asked, "When did she come?"

"Just a few minutes ago."

"What exactly did she say?" Neal inquired, sounding skeptical.

"She said she knew who was our guy, and where he would be heading tonight."

"She knew all that?" Neal asked incredulously. Diana nodded at him, but Neal had his doubts. There was no such thing as a "perfect witness" or "anonymous tip" much like the girl she just described. Witnesses didn't know it all. They didn't see everything that happened, but usually gave some details that helped. Anonymous tips were usually brief, unhelpful blurbs of vague information, since usually the anonymous person was afraid to come forward. He gave Peter a wary look, and he returned it. Something wasn't right.

"It's worth a shot," Peter said. "I'll ask her the questions. You watch her and see if she's telling the truth or not. "

When they went downstairs Neal saw that a young woman, maybe in her early twenties, or younger was standing there. She wore a long, navy pea coat that clung to her petite body, and black stilettos that looked like they'd break her ankle if she tripped. Her pale blond hair was neatly pinned up in a bun, and her hazel eyes fixed themselves on Neal and Peter. Her expression was neutral, but Neal felt she was holding something back.

"Hello, Miss Villetta," Peter greeted her. "I'm Agent Peter Burke. This is my partner, Neal Caffery. Thankyou for coming forward with the information you have." They shook hands quickly.

She smiled gently, "Oh no problem, Agent Burke. The moment I realized what he was doing I decided to come forward. What he's doing is wrong."

"Who is exactly is 'he'?" Peter asked.

"Shaun McKnight," she answered. "Well, that's his real name. I know him as Tripp Calder. That's the alias he is going by."

"How do you know all of this?" Neal asked.

"I've met the kid a couple of times. He's a friend of a friend, you know? Originally, he said his name was Tripp and that he was nineteen. But then he slipped up one day around my friend. She found out his real name, age, everything. Such a shame he's using his smarts to steal," she sighed.

"What exactly do you mean by kid?" Peter questioned curiously. Neal looked at him for a second, processing what she said. _Kid?_

_"_He's seventeen," Heidi told them. "Barely. His birthday was less than a month or so ago.

"You're kidding," Peter breathed. _Seventeen._ A teenager had evaded the FBI. A teenager knew how to make forge paintings. He knew how to act sly and how to steal. The information was baffling. "What else do you know about him?"

She bit her lip, and thought for a moment. "From what I gather he's an orphan. I don't know much about his family or anything. He graduated two years early from high school, like I said: genius. He lives in an apartment in the Upper East Side. His hair is as pale as mine, and he has a boyish face, like he just _looks _youthful. He isn't all that tall, but he isn't short either. Maybe five 'seven or five 'eight. He's flat muscled. And for the life of me, I can't remember the color of his eyes. But none of that matters," she brushed off dismissively.

Neal was examining her behavior, looking for a flaw. He couldn't find her tell, which would have indicated whether she were lying or not. And everything she said seemed truthful, but almost too truthful. As if it rehearsed. She had enough details, but didn't have all of them. She had specifics, but she wasn't too specific. And she sounded genuine. But Neal knew that something was off, he just couldn't pinpoint what.

"It doesn't?" Peter raised a brow.

"No," she smirked. "Because you want to know where he is going to steal from next. I know for a fact that he'll be at the this little art gallery called, Star. It has lots of pricey paintings, and sculptures. My friend found his plans to sneak in and out of the building in his apartment. She told me about it because she was too frightened to come forward to the police. When she asked me to come forward with the evidence she found, I couldn't refuse." Heidi handed a folder manila folder to Peter. "She stole the plans from his apartment, when he wasn't looking."

"Thank you," Peter said, taking the folder from her.

_This is _too _perfect_, Neal thought doubtfully.

"I must get going, I have a meeting for work soon. Have a nice day Agent Burke." Heidi's smiled that pretty little smile again that Neal had begun to dislike in the ten minutes that he had known her.

"Of course, thank you for coming forward," Peter said politely. "Have a nice day."

"You're welcome," She said, and the smile returned. She looked at Neal. " ," she added curtly, before turning on her heel and walking out of the building.

"That went. . . Great," Peter said, looking confused. He and Neal shared a look, knowing that something was up. "I'll get Jones. With luck we'll catch this McKnight kid tonight."

"With luck," Neal repeated, though he sounded distant, as if deep in thought. "And what about her?"

"We'll look into that after we catch the kid," Peter said. It was so bizarre for him to say kid.

* * *

Meanwhile, the young woman, who had just walked away from them, was smirking as she walked outside and put on a pair of Gucci sunglasses. She had just charmed and deceived a fed, and was quite proud of herself. She knew his consultant was skeptical, but that didn't matter. Just as long was McKnight was out of her way.

If only she had given Peter and Neal her real name. Then maybe they would have realized that she was a lot worse than the young Shaun McKnight.

Oh yes, Alicia Fox was much more of a threat. But since Shaun underestimated her, he didn't know that. She assumed that he'd learn his lesson after this though.

Too bad he'd only learn that lesson after that Agent Burke fellow, and his handsome partner arrested him.

**AN: I hope everyone liked this chapter. Please Review. I really want to hear everyone's thoughts on this story.**

**-SwirlyTwirly**


	2. The Deal

AN:** Here it is! Chapter Two :) Please R&R. Sorry it took so long to publish.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own White Collar and never ever will. I only own Shaun McKnight and Alicia Fox.**

"Peter, something doesn't seem right about this," Neal said as the two walked back to Peter's office. "It's too good to be true. No one knows _that _much. "

"I know," Peter agreed, opening the folder. "But we have to check out the lead anyway. Maybe it is something." When the two walked into the office Diana was there waiting for him. "Diana I need you to find out everything you can about Shaun McKnight."

"Alright," she nodded and walked out of the room.

Peter sighed. "I still can't believe we've chased a kid. A kid, who should be studying and worrying about girls instead of selling stolen paintings. I mean, how does a _kid _become a con artists?"

Neal just shrugged, snatching the folder out of Peter's hands. "Someone could have taught him. Perhaps his parents, if they were cons too. Or he taught himself. I mean, I was good at that age." He skimmed the first page of paperwork as he spoke before adding, " It seems like McKnight is a genius. According to this information, he graduated two years early. Not many people skip one class, let alone two."

"We won't know until Diana and Jones get back with some information about him," Peter said. "I don't want to rely on the information that girl Heidi gave us. It could be a bunch of lies to lead us in the wrong direction. Who knows, maybe it's not the kid. She could be trying to pin it on him," he added optimistically.

"Could be," Neal agreed, but didn't sound sure. There just seemed that there was more to the story, more that he and Peter knew, which irked him. Neal felt that he had no control over the situation, but Heidi did. He and Peter in were in the dark about _something _on the case, he just couldn't pinpoint what. "How exactly are we going to catch this kid tonight?" Neal asked curiously.

"I already contacted the gallery. Diana and I will be posing as security guards there. Jones will be out front and someone else will be out back if he tries to escape. A backup team will be on standby if things get out of hand," he explained, and honestly hoped for the kids sake that things didn't reach that level. "We might be able to catch this kid tonight; if he shows. I doubt he will," Peter added, more so to comfort himself than to assure Neal.

"What will I do?" Neal asked.

"You'll be at home probably doing something with Mozzie or June," Peter stated.

"I can help you guys catch this kid. You know that," Neal reasoned.

"I know you can," Peter assured him. "But odds are the kid isn't won't be there tonight anyway. There's really no point for you to come," Peter explained.

"Gee, thanks," Neal muttered.

"Anytime," Peter replied, smirking.

* * *

About an hour later Diana came back in with a handful of papers all about Shaun McKnight.

"What did you find out Diana?" Peter asked.

"His full name is Shaun Reid McKnight," she answered "Born November 24th, 1995. Both his parents were lawyers. Not that they needed the money. Apparently, Edward McKnight, his father, came from old money. They died about seven years ago. He lived with his paternal aunt, Gean McKnight, until he graduated two years early when he was sixteen, which was last year. He filed for emancipation shortly after, but they denied his request. So he ran off after that. His aunt has not heard from him since," she said. "That's all I could find about him."

"How did his parents die?" Peter was curious.

Diana flicked around through the pages, until she found the one she was looking for. "They were murdered at their estate in Manchester. Edward McKnight was found in his study, with three gunshot wounds to the chest. His wife, Deb, died from two gunshots to the back. Their murderer was never caught. Shaun was away with his grandparents the weekend they died. There were no witnesses," Diana concluded. "Maybe his parent's death lead him to the rebellious streak," she suggested.

"Rebellious streak? The kid has stolen artwork worth millions of dollars on multiple occasions. That isn't what the average teenager does during a rebellious streak," Peter remarked.

"I don't think this kid is like your average teen," Diana countered.

"What exactly are we going to do with him? Send him to juvi?" Peter wondered out loud. "Legally he's not an adult. He probably won't be tried as one."

"Juvi isn't exactly what Hughes has in mind."

"You talked to Hughes?" Neal asked.

She nodded. "I filled him in. He set up a meeting with a judge to discuss what to do. Apparently they are coming up with some sort of agreement," Diana said. "I would elaborate, but I don't know anymore. It's all very hush, hush."

"I think they should try him as an adult. He is as smart as one," Neal said firmly. "Four years behind bars, the least."

"He is still a child, Neal. A misguided child. You're just jealous that they might cut this kid somewhat of a break," Diana said. Neal grumbled but didn't say anything else. She smirked at his response.

"Let's worry about what's going to happen to McKnight after we catch him," Peter said dismissively.

* * *

Shaun regretted not talking Alicia's threat with caution. Then he wouldn't have found himself in a such a dire situation. One minute, he was placing the forged painting in the original's frame, and the next minute he was staring at a security guard, who had walked in unexpectedly. It was a shock, since he was under the impression that all the guards were unconscious. After all, he had slipped a sedative into all of their coffees and waited for the drug to kick in. There was no way possible that one of them was awake already. Eyes wide, he ducked behind a counter before the guard could detect him. Shaun silently began to slip away, heading for the back entrance of the gallery.

"No one's here." the security guard spoke into a radio. "Jones, this is a bust."

_Jones, this is a bust? _Shaun put the pieces together. Alicia sent to feds after him. It was cruel, and it'd get him out of her way without getting her pretty little hands dirty.

He seethed in anger, but pushed it aside as he continued toward the door. First he had to escape, then he could deal with the insufferable Alicia Fox. He pried the back door open furiously, only to see a gun for him and a FBI agent standing there, glaring at him.

_I should have seen this coming_, He chided himself miserably. _Over course they'd have all exits covered. They're the FBI for crying out loud! I'm an idiot. _Maybe idiot wasn't the best word to use, since he was referred to as a _**prodigy**_ when he was younger. He merely didn't think his plan out thoroughly enough.

"Don't move, Brat" the agent demanded. Ouch, that brat line slightly stung. Who as he to call _him_ a brat? Seeing no other option, Shaun raised his hands in surrender. He noted that the name on the agent's vest read Barnes. Agent Barnes was suddenly talking into a radio, "Got him. At the back doorway."

When he spoke, he took his eyes off Shaun. Seizing the opportunity, Shaun flung his fist at the agent. The punch caught Barnes off guard, as the walkie-talkie slipped from his grasp and he stumbled backwards. Barnes barely managed to hold his gun as he tried to regain his balance. Without hesitation, Shaun took off in a sprint. Agent Barnes charged after him, forcing Shaun to push himself to run faster. As he rounded the corner, he heard more people come out of the backdoor. They all began to chase after them, with one of them screaming, "Stop! FBI!"

He mentally scoffed. Like _that_ would get him to stop.

Lucky for Shaun, he knew this part of Manhattan well. He rounded a corner, sped up his sprint, then rounded another before dashing across the street towards a café. He glanced behind and slowed down, seeing that the agents were far behind him. He casually walked inside, in order not to draw attention to himself. After a couple of shaky deep breaths, Shaun got on the line. He could really go for a coffee at the moment.

* * *

Alicia glowered and scowled at no one in particular as she hung up her phone and slammed it on the table. She had just received the most terrible news. Apparently, Shaun McKnight escaped the FBI the night earlier. He escaped, even after she gave them every possible detail about the con. She practically handed him over to them on silver platter. And he still managed to get away. She was furious, to say the least.

She slumped into a chair in her dining room, wondering what she would do about this kid. . She had dealt with cons in her way before. All of them were easy to dispose of. None of had ever escaped from the FBI or cops when she sent them on their trail.

Then Shaun came along. He certainly excelled at the game. He was good, so good that he was competition for her, who was a professional. Clearly, he knew the ins and outs. He knew how to line up clients, and deliver as promised. But that was what Alicia did. That was her job in New York. She marked the city as her territory long ago, and no one was going to ruin that. She wouldn't allow anyone to ruin her it. He was merely a young fool in her way, but going to the feds should have tchanged that. The fact that he dodged her surprise attack complicated the matter. Shaun McKnight was _still _in her way.

She needed to dispose of the kid. For a long while, she pondered what she could do. Weighed the pros and cons of all of her options. Alicia smirked brightly to herself as an idea popped into her head at last. She kicked of her slippers, slipped a pair of pumps on, applied her make up, and marched out of the door triumphantly.

_How did I not think of this before?_ She chastised herself, but hurried out of her penthouse in search of a cab.

Minutes later she was standing in front of Agent Peter Burke and the ex-con, Neal Caffrey.

"I heard you didn't catch him last night," she falsely sympathized after they all said their hellos.

"Where did you hear that, Heidi?" Neal asked crossly. Alicia sensed he disliked her, but was fine with it. She wasn't particularly fond of him either.

"My friend told me about it. She spoke to Shaun last night. He told her all about it." It was a simple lie, but she knew that Peter would fall for it. Alicia also knew that Caffrey doubted her, which was why she wasn't found of him. He was a con. He could tell when she was lying.

"Your friend contacted?" Peter asked incredulously, yet he sounded a bit eager. Shaun's escape last night was disappointing and embarrassing. A teenager evaded the FBI, which didn't look good for bureau. The whole night was one big screw up that he needed to correct. It was essential to arrest McKnight soon, to save the bureau's reputation.

"Yeah," she said. "Well no, actually. He called her. But I'm not here to talk about how he got away. I'm here with more information about Shaun." Alicia spoke quickly, as if excited. "I know where he lives."

"Why didn't you tell us before?" Neal demanded.

"I didn't know until this morning. She called me this morning and accidentally let it slip," she told him. "He lives alone in a penthouse on the Upper East Side," she said, fishing through her person for a pen and paper. Alicia scribbled the address on the sheet and gave it to Peter. "As far as I know he should be there. Like now."

Peter accepted the paper graciously. "Thank you."

"Your welcome Agent Burke," Alicia said, and flashed him a charming smile. "If you need anything else just call." She handed him a little index card with one of her numbers on it. It was the number she used when she was using a false name, much like this situation. "Have a good day," she said, and left the building,. As she walked away, the triumphant smirk crept back onto her face.

Once she was out of earshot, Neal looked at Peter. "This could be a set up."

"I know," Peter agreed. "But it's the best lead we've got. And her information from last night was correct. Checking it out won't hurt."

"I still don't trust her," Neal stated. "She's too perfect. She's lying, I can tell."

"I already told you that we'll look into Heidi once we catch McKnight," Peter said.

"She's playing us Peter," he protested. "Something about this isn't right." Call it a gut feeling, intuition, or whatever, Neal knew could see right through Heidi's façade. He just couldn't figure out her angle. Clearly, she wanted Shaun McKnight in custody, but he didn't know why. And it irked him. This entire case bothered him.

"I know." Peter let out a long sigh before repeating, "I know." He ran his hand through his hair and sighed once more. Neal was right, and he knew it. But Peter what stuck, having no other leads to go on. "Look, we'll check it out. Hopefully we can catch the kid, and tomorrow we'll look into Heidi. If we find nothing on her, we drop the subject and put this case behind us," he compromised. "Sounds good."

"Fine," Neal agreed begrudgingly, just to please Peter. Tomorrow was too long of a wait for Neal Caffrey though. He planned on looking into Heid Villetta that night, whether Peter liked it or not.

* * *

Shaun was eating breakfast as the events of the night ran wildly through his head. He kept playing the scenario over and over in his head, as if the memory was on eternal replay. Shaun had never messed up like that before. He still wasn't sure what to tell his client, Roger. It was easy to conjure a million and one lies, but all of them would still look bad for Shaun. The last thing he needed was for clients to believe that he was unreliable and a screw up. That he couldn't manage to get the job done. He business would be ruined.

He had a gnawing feeling that Alicia Fox was somehow involved, but he pushed that thought aside when he heard the doorbell ring. Assuming it Trish, a good friend of his who was supposed to stop by, he got up and answered it.

Standing there were two men. One was a young man in his early thirties. His brown hair and sharp blue eyes, looking eerily familiar. The other one looked a few years older, and wore a surprised yet composed expression.

"Can I help you?" Shaun asked, raising a brow.

"Hello," the older agent said. "You're Shaun McKnight?"

_I didn't buy this penthouse with my real name, _Shaun thought with dread. These guys were cops. He tried to mask his surprised. Panic would only ruin things more. Shaun knew that if he wanted to get out of this situation, he needed to act calm. "No sir. I'm Matthew Madden. You must have the wrong address."

"I don't think so," the younger agent said.

"I can show you my ID if you'd like," Shaun said.

"No that will not be necessary," he said. For a moment, Shaun naïvely though that he was in the clear, but then the agent continued on. "See, we have a picture of Shaun McKnight."

The older of the two pulled a folded piece of computer paper out of a pocket in his suit. He unfolded it and held it up. Shaun stared at the paper, and felt his heart drop. He was done for. "Looks an awful lot like you, doesn't he?"

Fight or flight instinct began to kick in. But before he could slam the door shut and escape in the penthouse, the man grabbed his arm and roughly yanked him into the hallway, placing handcuffs on his wrists. "You're under arrest, kid." Then he proceeded to read him his rights.

* * *

Peter kept glancing at Shaun through the review mirror as he drove back to the bureau. Normally, he would have handed the boy off the police immediately, but Hughes asked him to bring the young con artist to the bureau. The drive was taking longer than normal due to traffic, which gave Peter some time to analyze the teenaged criminal sitting handcuffed in the backseat.

When Shaun had answered the door before, Peter's jaw nearly dropped. In all honesty, he didn't expect Heidi's lead to check out. Peter looked into the mirror again, to see Shaun starting out of the window. His blue eyes were littered with mixed emotions such as defeat and aggravation. Clearly, the arrest battered his pride. He pursed his lips into a thin line, which looked odd on a seventeen year old. Peter averted his eyes back to the road before Shaun could notice his scrutinizing gaze.

_Seventeen_, Peter thought. _Much too young._

So far the ride was silent, with Peter driving and Shaun brooding in the back. Neal was silent, but at last approached Shaun with conversation.

"You did good," he commended as he peered around his seat to look at him. Peter shot Neal a disapproving look, but Neal continued on. "Perhaps if you waited until you were older, you would have gotten away with it. And more."

"Perhaps," Shaun said, still staring out the window.

"I'm Neal, by the way. Neal Caffrey. And this," he gestured to Peter, "is Peter Burke."

"Caffrey?" Shaun inquired. That caught his attention, and he peeled his gaze away from the window to actually look at Neal. Recognition hit him, and then it all made sense. _Of course they'd find me with Caffrey helping them_, he thought. Neal Caffrey was infamous, one of the most notorious con artists around, as well as one of the best. Of course a con could catch a con.

"The one and only," Neal said. "Now tell me, Shaun. How did you learn to make forgeries like that? It took me a few years of practice, but you? So young? I find that fascination, you know."

Shaun shrugged. "I've always been good at art."

"Tha's a little more than good," Peter interjected.

Shaun just shrugged again.

"You seem like you're good a lot of things," Neal said. "According to your file, you were a child prodigy. Excelled in school, graduated early."

"That's what they called me, yeah."

"What compelled you into forging paints anyway?" Peter asked abruptly. "I mean, how does someone your age involved with cons?"

"How does anyone get involved in this business?" Shaun shot back, then sighed. "It's a long story."

"Care to explain?" Neal inquired, genuinely curious.

"Honestly? No," Shaun answered, his gaze averting back out the window. He didn't even understand why he was answering them. He wasn't exactly in the mood to talk, especially to a fed and his C.I. For the rest of the car ride, he continued to stare out the window. For a while, Neal would ask him questions. Eventually that died down and the car was silent once more, leaving Shaun to fume and brood in his lonesome.

* * *

Shaun found himself sitting inside some interrogation room, alone. The walls were white and plain. The door was locked. If he wasn't handcuffed he would have tried to pick the lock and escape. He had even tried slipping out of his cuffs, but they were locked too tightly out of his wrists. Shaun was never in a situation where he would actually need to know how to escape from some form of bonds, which is why he never bothered to learn. He released a frustrated groan and meekly tugged at the handcuffs once more. He was trapped, like a rabid animal, much to his dismay.

His thoughts lingered towards his fate. Shaun was curious about what the feds were going to do with him. Obviously they weren't planning to send him to jail, or else he would have been in a holding cell already. Perhaps they were looking for a juvenile detention center to send him to or something like that. Shaun just hoped that they decided on a decision soon, because he was sick of being in this empty room.

About fifteen minutes later a white-haired man walked in, clutching a file of paperwork in his grasp. He introduced himself as Agent Hughes, before seating himself across from Shaun. Then, he placed the file on the table and slid it towards him.

"You can look at it if you want to, Shaun," he said.

The file was barely in his reach, but Shaun managed to pull it towards him and flip it open. The file was about him. Well, everything the FBI could find out about him. There was information from his birth all the way to last year, before he went missing. There was also some current information about him; information that only Shaun and a few others knew about, such as some of his aliases and such. The last page was a list of criminal charges that he was facing, including art forgery and theft charges on mutiple counts. Shaun looked at the paper in awe, and automatically began calculating how much jail time these charges could possible at up to. He did the math; it was a couple of years.

"Those are the charges you're facing, Shaun," Hughes state. "You've gotten yourself into an awful lot of trouble, haven't you?"

Shaun nodded, deciding that some witty remark was not going to help his cause. It was best to stay quite, and use his young age to his advantage. Maybe they'd pity him if he seemed like a frightened, misguided teenager. Probably not, but it was worth a shot.

"Look, I'm not here to yell at you, or to ask you why you stole all of those paintings and sold them. I don't even care about how you learned to create forgeries," he said bluntly. "I really don't care. I'm here to offer you a way out of jail, or a juvenile."

Shaun arched a pale brow. "Go on," he beckoned, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"We have a criminal consultant here, Neal Caffrey. He's an excellent consultant, don't get me wrong, but we need some. . . new meat, in a sense," Agent Hughes told him. "That's where you come in."

"Elaborate please," Shaun demanded.

"You work for here, along side Agent Burke and Caffrey as a criminal consultant instead of being shipped off to a juvenile detention center. Living arrangements will be made for you. And you'll have to wear a tracking device, like Caffrey does. When the time comes, the time when you should have been released from juvi, you'll be given the option to stay and continue to work for us, without the tracking device, or to leave and go about your business," Hughes explained/

Maybe Shaun should have let the information sink in. He should have weighed the pros and cons. But that deal sounded so much better than jail and dententuin halls. So, he impulsively answered, "I'll do it."

**AN: I hope everyone liked it. The next chapter should be out soon. Please review. I really want to know what everyone is thinking of this story so far. **

**-SwirlyTwirly**


	3. The New Consultant

**AN: I'm sorry that this took so long to update. I got caught up with other stories. I'm so sorry! Anywho, here is the long awaited chapter three! Please R&R. **

**Disclaimer: I don't and never will own White Collar. I only own Shaun McKnight and Alicia Fox.**

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"You did what?" Peter shouted at Hughes moments after he learned about the deal he made with Shaun. "We already have Caffrey. Does the Bureau really need another consultant? Besides, he's just a kid who got lucky." He was baffled at the thought of another consultant. The idea of having two ex-cons to keep an eye on made him want to shutter.

"You head me Burke," Hughes said. "I made the kid a criminal consultant. We need some new meat around here anyway. Besides, how much trouble can he be?"

"Have you seen how much trouble Caffrey is?" Peter countered.

"It's settled already, Peter. The kid is an consultant, end of discussion," Hughes said. "A tracking anklet has already been place on the boy. It's a little more giving than Caffrey's; it lets him stray at up to five miles. All we need now is for you to escort him to his new home."

"He's probably going to find a better one like Caffrey did," Peter grumbled. "I'll bring him there, I just have to tell Neal first." He had a feeling that Neal would either enjoy having the kid around, or absolutely dread it, Peter wasn't sure.

"I'm sure he'll take the news well," Hughes stated before walking away. Peter did the same and ventured around the office, looking for Neal. He found him a few minutes later talking with Diana and Jones about something. He braced himself for their reactions.

"So how did your little chat with Hughes go?" Neal asked curiously. He was leaning against the wall casually, his hat tipped to the side as he sipped on a cup of coffee. "What are they going to do with McKnight? Jail time? Juvi?'

"No, he's not going to jail or juvi. Hughes decided that the Bureau needed another consultant. "

"So he made the kid a one?" Jones asked, a flabbergasted expression etched onto his face.

"Yeah," Peter sighed, "he did. So now I have Neal and him. Wonderful!"

"It can't be that bad," Diana reasoned. "He's only a seventeen year old kid."

"Kid genius who graduated two years early, and is a con artist," Neal stated. "McKnight is going to give Peter a real run for his money. He might even be worse than me because he probably still has those rebellious tendencies that every teen gets. Oh, this is going to be great." Neal smirked at them all and added, "I can't wait to get to know Shaun McKnight."

* * *

Shaun drummed his fingers along the table in the interrogation room repeatedly, getting sick of being locked in the room. Agent Hughes had left him in there for nearly two hours since they made the deal and now he was waiting for the Agent who had arrested him, Agent Burke and Neal Caffrey, to come release him from his doom and bring him to his new home, which Hughes had been incredibly discreet about. Before Hughes left, a man came in with a box and Hughes watched as a tracking anklet was put on his ankle. He was told that it would only let him go five miles away from his house. Shaun nearly began to plot a way to get the contraption off his leg, but he decided to wait a bit and give this whole consultant thing a try. He had a feeling that juvi was going to be out of the question if he were to get caught a second time around. If he escaped and ever got caught again then he would surely get sentenced to jail.

After a few minutes he grew tired of drumming his fingers and nearly resulted to twiddling his thumbs. Being stranded alone in a room with nothing even interesting to stare at was incredibly agitating. He sighed and ran a hand through his pale blond hair, when suddenly a thought popped into his head. Not a thought actually, but a name. A name that could make snakes taste their own venom. A name that Shaun usually laughed at and never took seriously up until that point. The name of a pretty blond con like himself.

_Alicia Fox._

Up until that point he had not exactly wondered how he got caught, but suddenly he thought of her, the competition he never met and it all made sense. She ratted him out, under some fake alias obvious. Mentally he slapped himself in the face at how he had underestimated the girl, his enemy he had never actually met. His aunt had always told him that arrogance would be his downfall, but had always scoffed and replied saying that he wasn't arrogant, just a little too proud. Now it was Alicia who was a little too proud, because her only competition was now working with the feds.

He brightened at that, vowing to make sure that she ended up serving hard time in jail all because of him.

The door opened and in walked Agent Burke, who seemed reluctant to be there, and Neal Caffrey, who was grinning for some reason. Agent Burke sat down in front of him, saying, "I see that Agent Hughes already told you all of the perks of being a consultant."

"Yes," Shaun said, putting on a polite bravado.

"And he told you about how you'll be working with Neal and I? And that we'll be bringing you to your new housing?"

Shaun nodded at that saying, "he did. I don't see why I can't stay at my penthouse though. It is in the five mile radius."

"Hughes decided against it," Agent Burke said. "But all of your personal items, like your clothes, have been collected and will be in the apartment when we get there. Oh, and you can call me Peter by the way."

"Fair enough, Peter," Shaun said, nodding once more.

Soon they found themselves standing in a small apartment, and it came furnished. There was one bedroom, a kitchen, and a small living room. It was a decent apartment actually. The bedroom was painted a deep navy, had a queen sized bed, a dresser, small closet, and a flat screen. The Kitchen had new cabinets, the usual appliances, and a small table to eat at. And the living room was filled with couches, a coffee table, and yet another tiny flat screen. In the center of the living room were a few boxes with his things that had been collected from the penthouse.

"Did Agent Hughes have this planned for a while? Everything seems new," Shaun observed.

"I think he did," Peter said, before grinning at Neal. "It's a lot better than what we originally gave you," he chuckled.

"So I've noticed," Neal murmured. "It's alright, I like my set up at June's better than this."

"Obviously," Peter muttered, turning to Shaun. "There's a small grocery store a few blocks away, you can go there and get food and such." He handed Shaun a debit card saying, "this is only for necessities."

"Got it."

Peter nodded, then said, "We'll see you tomorrow, Shaun."

"Bye guys," Shaun said as they left.

He stared at his apartment for a moment before beginning to unpack his things.

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**AN: I finally finished this chapter! I hope everyone likes it. I know it's a little short. Sorry about that, the next one will be longer though! And out quicker! Please Review.**

**-SwirlyTwirly**


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